I'm a writer,
Of the night,
Shying away,
From bright light.

I work at my best,
When no one's around,
So I can write,
In peace, no sound.

This may seem odd,
And it is, really,
But I like to write,
And often, ideally.

But that's not how it goes,
I can't write every day,
Sometimes there's no spark,
And it won't go my way.

But when I get going,
I will not go to bed,
As the night is my ally,
A mate, a good friend.

I prefer the darkness,
It gives me better sight,
This doesn't make sense, but,
I'm a writer of the night.